


Of Flowers and Memories

by EmeryGrey



Series: Undertale One-Shots [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery Character(s), Nightmare, Vomiting, happy birthday ink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeryGrey/pseuds/EmeryGrey
Summary: Ink finds himself in the one situation he never wishes to be in, but someone manages to help him feel better.
Series: Undertale One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706044
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Of Flowers and Memories

**Author's Note:**

> It's Ink's birthday! (I’m posting this a day late, though, I couldn’t finish it yesterday)  
> As a tribute to my favorite Sans, I have written this one-shot. I hope you enjoy!

The first thing the lone skeleton noticed when he came to was that everything was white. Not a sound could be heard and the emptiness stretched on endlessly in every direction. It was silent. Still. Unsettling.

Ink didn’t like it.

The massive blank space made him feel uneasy, though he couldn’t remember why, so he shifted his gaze down towards himself. He was in a very comfortable set of clothes that seemed easy to move in, so he started to stand up when he noticed something very wrong. His bandolier was missing from its usual spot on his chest. He briefly wondered why that seemed important, when suddenly his fingers twitched as if wanting to reach for something. He gave in to the old, forgotten habit and found himself picking up the end of his scarf and bringing it closer to his face.

What's this? He took a closer look at the smudges and found a few lines written near the bottom edge that appeared clearer than the others. They were instructions on the importance and correct use of his vials of paint. As Ink read through it, he felt some of his memories flooding back and his thoughts began to race.

_ What happened to me? How did I end up in the antivoid? Where's Broomy? Why can’t I feel anything from the Creators? And what happened to my paints? _

Ink couldn’t feign panic for very long, though, without it leaving a foul taste in his mouth. It felt like he hadn’t had any paint for weeks, but he hated (according to his scarf) pretending to feel emotions just for the sake of normalcy. 

He walked around in circles for what felt like hours, but was probably just a few minutes, as he tried to figure out answers to his questions. After some time spent searching his mind for anything helpful, he came to a frightening realization that stopped him dead in his tracks. That was it, it was the only thing left that made sense, as terrible as it was. With a dead look in his eyes and a looming sense of dread, Ink uttered a phrase that would be just an inconvenience to anyone else but was a death sentence for him.

"I’m being forgotten."

That couldn’t be right! He couldn’t see how it was possible, but whenever he thought it through, everything led back to the same conclusion. He started pacing again as inky bile collected in his mouth. He swallowed it back with a grimace, took a deep breath, and then started screaming. 

"Someone, please! Anyone out there, I don’t care who! Just let me know you can hear me! Let me know I’m not alone!" He began to sob, gripping his arms in a cold imitation of a hug. He waited for a moment, but the only sound in the everlasting silence was his hiccuping cries. He looked up at the ceiling of the antivoid and, just barely above a whisper, made one last plea.

"Please, if there’s anyone who can hear me... anyone at all! Please, don’t forget about me.  _ I JUST DON'T WANT TO DIE!"  _ He screamed the last part as loud as he could, but he never heard a response. Ink's panicked breath finally slowed, and as he looked back down at his feet, he let out a resigned sigh.

After such an intense influx of emotions he didn’t expect to feel, the ink he had held back suddenly forced its way out of his mouth and he fell onto his hands and knees, coughing out the vile substance. After a while, once no more ink passed his teeth, his body finally gave out, collapsing on top of the large pool of black. With a numbness only a soulless being could fathom, his sockets closed and he passed out.

  
  


".....k." Ink grumbled and turned over onto his side.  _ What’s the point of staying awake if there’s nothing I can do? _

"....nk!" Ink thought he felt someone shaking his shoulders, though he had no idea who it could be when he was alone in the antivoid. Was it even possible for someone else to find him? No, that couldn’t be. There was no way, not when everything he had worked so hard for just forgot him in the end. His breathing quickened at the reminder and his expression tensed as if he were in pain.

"Ink! Ink, wake up!" This time, he heard the words clearly and turned to face the being who disturbed his sleep. He was afraid at what he might find, but felt he had nothing left to lose, so he slowly opened his eyes. The sight that greeted him was not the endless white that he expected, but a gentle yellow light streaming through tinted windows that covered the room in a hazy, warm glow.

The person that had woken him up finally stopped shaking him, so he got his eyes to focus on them. At first, he had no idea who they were, but then, memories and vibrant emotions flooded his mind and he began to shake with relief. Something wet and warm dripped down Ink's face like a waterfall, putting the other person into a panic. They quickly enveloped Ink in a tight but comforting embrace and began whispering soothing words to calm him down.

"Shhh, Ink, it's ok. Don’t cry, it was just a bad dream. I’m here for you, ok? I’ll never leave you." They gently pet Ink's skull as the tears slowed and the shaking stopped. They hugged each other for a little while longer until Ink seemed to have recovered enough and pushed the other's shoulders to look them in the eyes.

He struggled to get words out, but managed a quiet "thank you" and leaned in to nuzzle their forehead.

After a slow morning spent in comfortable silence, Ink was led outside and brought to the top of a hill. They settled down and leaned against each other, taking in the wonderful view of a meadow in full bloom. Petals danced around them on a gentle breeze and the trees on the hill swayed. In a soft voice, so as not to disturb the relaxing atmosphere, the person worthy of Ink's utmost respect and admiration spoke.

"Hey, Ink?" He hummed in response, still watching the lovely flowers before them.

"Happy birthday."

**Author's Note:**

> Please, leave kudos if you enjoyed it and let me know in the comments what you thought! I love seeing your feedback.


End file.
